Eternal: Chapter Ten, Part 3

Two weeks passed, with only two to go. We were mostly prepared, and what we weren’t ready for we never would be, so it didn’t matter. I tried to stay away from everyone, the anxiety palpable almost to the point of unbearable; I noticed Ian wasn’t around much either unless it was just the two of us, sometimes Drei as well, hanging out in our apartment. Even that wasn’t often.

Then again, I was also busy. No one knew with what, but it was my project for Drei, my gift back to him. Whenever I’d had time, I had been searching, slowly working through a long list of burial sites and graveyards, marking off the ones that didn’t have what I was looking for. There were a couple of times I thought I had found them, but upon closer inspection, they were too old or too young, or too recent—the decay not far enough along.

Unexpectedly, not in a cemetery, but just outside of one, was one deep grave. Inside, from what I could tell, were buried two little girls in a single casket. They were barefoot, no suggestion of shoes anywhere in their grave. What was left of their clothes suggested a flimsy dress—flimsy from how little there was left of it. They seemed to be in approximately the right stage of decay, based on my brief research on the subject.

Pulling out of my mapping, I checked where I had been looking. A small graveyard overseas, to the north and near the coast. Before I told Drei, I wanted to check it out for myself, but knew I didn’t have the time or the means. Mapping it again, I was sure it was Avery and Ashlyn.

I could have asked Valetta or Mitchell to check for me, but what if they told me I was crossing a line? I should keep my nose to myself and not even think about opening those old wounds for him, especially if I loved him. It seemed all I could imagine was the worst, no matter how hard I tried to come up with anything that was positive.

Those thoughts didn’t help, though. As I contemplated telling Drei, the words from my scenario kept playing through my head. No one had even said them, but they were there nonetheless. If you love him, you won’t tell him. And as those words stopped, the thought that he deserved to know kept pushing me towards it. I was caught between a rock and a hard place and I wasn’t even sure how. It was all in my head but it all seemed real.

I finally broke down the last night of April, the night before the march. Or, more precisely, it had been bothering me for so long, Drei finally drew it out of me.

“What is the matter?” he asked as we sat together on the couch, running his fingers through my hair as he set down the paper he had been reading—the front page was chock full of information for the public on tomorrow.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking it off and closing my eyes. He didn’t know; he didn’t need to know, I told myself in an attempt to cover up the voice telling me he should know.

Glancing down, I felt him inspect me, looking for some clue as to what I was thinking. “It is unhealthy to keep it to yourself.”

Unhealthy. I was reminded of my thoughts about Jake bottling his emotions; that was the word I had used then to describe it. And now Drei was telling me the same thing because I was bottling it up. But I didn’t want to believe it. This was different; this was me, and Drei, and his sisters. This was my relationship, not anger and sadness at my family. It was different, not at all the same thing.

“You can tell me,” he insisted, pulling me from my thoughts.

Glancing up at his pale, amethyst eyes, I knew he was telling the truth. I could tell him; he wouldn’t let it ruin what we had, and I could finally get it off my chest.

“I think I found your sisters,” I whispered, looking away. Though his eyes promised a calm reaction, my mind still warily remembered some of his past reactions. He had the ability to be cruel, even to me.

“How?”

I hadn’t expected that; my voice had sounded so soft to me I thought his first question would be for me to repeat. But it wasn’t, and that threw me for a moment. “Over the last couple of years I’ve been mapping graveyards and burial grounds, trying to find them for you,” I said timidly, still unable to gaze up at him. If he had looked away from me, I might have been able to, but his gaze was steady. “And I think I found them. I have it marked on a map, if you wanted to see;” I stood to retrieve it.

Drei captured my hand, stopping me. He stood, taking my other hand in his, trying to catch my eyes.

“Abriel,” he said, softly but clearly, and our eyes met. His eyes were watery on the edges but glinting, the slightest curve to his lips. “I appreciate what you have done for me.”

“It wasn’t anything special;” I broke our gaze and glanced around the room. His eyes were so intensely focused on me and I couldn’t read any emotion coming from him; the combination unnerved me. “I just thought I could help, since I had some extra time and, you know, some—”

He chuckled, a deep rippling sound filling the space between us. “There is no need to babble,” he said, lifting my chin. “You have done nothing wrong.”

Looking up at him, he was wearing a full smile now, white teeth and all. “Really? You’re not mad?” I asked, feeling myself shiver. Why was I shivering?

Shaking his head, his shaggy hair jostling a little, he elaborated, “I am not upset with you. You have done me a great service, Abriel,” he persisted, closing the gap between us and folding me into his arms. “Why are you shivering?”

I wrapped my arms around his waist, shaking my head. I didn’t know why I was still shivering. It wasn’t fear, because I wasn’t frightened anymore by how he might react. He had already reacted, and it was the best case scenario I hadn’t been able to imagine.

Then it dawned on me: I didn’t want him to say he was going to find his sisters’ graves instead of being with me tomorrow. I wasn’t sure if I could lead that many people through the capitol to the reflecting pool and then speak to them. Inspire them. Say what hadn’t been said in so long. Not if he wasn’t there. Nick may have helped my first tour, but this was a larger scale and it was much more important I didn’t completely foul it up.

But Drei had waited so long for this, and I wouldn’t stop him if he decided to go. I loved him; I had found them because I knew not knowing where they were had haunted him; he deserved to have closure so that wound could finally heal.

“I’ll get the map,” I said, still holding onto him, “so you can go find them. Tell me if I was right.”

When I went to pull away from him, Drei didn’t let me go. He just held me tighter and I couldn’t fathom why. He wanted this, had waited centuries for this, and now he was stopping me from giving him the information that had so long eluded him?

“Tomorrow is important for you,” he whispered into my ear. “I will be there for you.”

“But you’ve waited hundreds of years,” I argued, not understanding why he was doing this. He should be going to see if I was right, not staying here with me.

“I have waited hundreds of years, as you have said,” he repeated, holding my gaze, not letting me look away this time. “I can wait a few more days.”

“But—”

“Abriel,” he interrupted—having done this more frequently over the past months, especially when it came to arguing about sleep or the like, it didn’t concern me as much as it used to. “I would like to go, but tomorrow I will be here for you.”

Biting my bottom lip, I withheld my argument. I didn’t understand why he would put it off longer than he needed to, but maybe when I was as old as he was now, I’d understand. Tonight, I wouldn’t; I could be sure of that much.

“Besides,” Drei added, his eyes focusing on something else, “I would like you to be with me when I go.”

“Of course,” I promised, tightening my arms around him.

We stood that way for what seemed like a long time, though it couldn’t have been that long. It was still the night before the march when he suggested I sleep, kissing my temple and then leading me to the room.

I didn’t fall asleep right away, though I honestly couldn’t remember falling asleep at all that night. My brain seemed completely preoccupied with trying to figure out why he was putting me before them when they had been important to him longer. And as I asked myself that over and over again, the only answer that came to mind was that he loved me, and love made us do strange things.

Eternal: Chapter Ten, Part 2

A month before the march, I met with Justin and Angeline again. While Justin was still reluctant to admit he had less than a casual understanding of the movement, Angeline had been known to call, asking questions, and not just of me. After she actually started reading the information and watched the copies of our speeches online, she was an avid follower, always wanting more information. She often complained that Justin was too disinterested, not even having an opinion on the whole thing. But it was his choice, and I already told him I wouldn’t make it for him.

“Only a month left,” Angeline stated as I entered the meeting room we always used. “You know, everyone keeps asking how it is I ended up advising you.”

“Yeah, we’re the envy of our coworkers,” Justin added, a note of bitterness to his voice.

Smiling politely, I took a seat and waited for them to do the same. Justin leaned back in his seat, crossing one leg over the knee of the other and twirling a pen between the fingers of his left hand.

“We’ve run a clean campaign so far, with minimal incidence,” I said. “What I want to know is your professional opinions on what to expect during the march.”

“It should run smoothly,” Angeline said, glancing at Justin, her voice too sweet and sure.

“Honestly,” I amended, regarding them carefully. From everything I had read about marches and such in the past, I could gather some idea of what to expect. But I needed to know for today, for this movement, what might happen.

Biting her lip, Angeline didn’t say anything. Instead, she kept glancing from me to Justin, hoping I’d withdraw the question or he’d answer for her.

Justin exhaled heavily, shaking his head, but then he turned his gray eyes on me. “You should be fine since it isn’t a riot or anything. There will, inevitably, be the people who think you’re dangerous, that you’re lying, unnatural and so on present, but a small security detail can remove them without much incidence.”

“Nick’s been talking with his detail, making sure they understand violence is an absolute last resort and won’t be tolerated otherwise,” I said, nodding my head. Justin studied me for a moment as though this shocked him.

“Just to be on the safe side, I’d have Nick tell them no violence at all.” The longer he put off saying whatever it was he wanted to say, the paler he became and the faster that pen twirled. I wondered if he realized that.

“Tell me,” I demanded softly. Whatever it was, I obviously needed to know. If I didn’t, I couldn’t take any precautions to possibly prevent it.

“More than likely, you’ll have to face some kind of government intervention,” Angeline finally said when Justin didn’t volunteer. “Anything from angry people, as Justin said, to police waiting for someone just rude enough to call violent, from your bounty hunters causing a stir to assassins.”

“Keep in mind, any shooters or assassins might not be government related,” Justin added quietly, “and the likelihood of them being prosecuted is slim if they do manage to do any harm. Your group has become somewhat high profile, so they can’t make you disappear, but that doesn’t mean they won’t try or allow something to break the movement up completely.”

Well, there wasn’t any way to guard against that. I hoped since we chose the reflecting pool, it was open enough to avoid that sort of threat. But it seemed it didn’t matter where we were. I would have to bring it up with Nick, see what he was planning to do about it, if anything at all. My concern wasn’t for myself as much as it was for everyone else with me. They were considerably more partial to bullets than I was, and I didn’t bring anyone into this to see them injured. My movement was to lessen the grievances against us, not increase them.

“You asked,” Justin reminded me, and I realized I had been quiet for quite a long time.

Smiling at them, I said, “Thank you.” I stood, and they jumped to their feet as well.

As we shook hands, Angeline inquired, “Are you worried? Because you shouldn’t be. The chances of it happening, especially at the reflecting pool—”

“Are slim,” Justin finished for her.

“So were the chances we’d end up this far in this amount of time,” I replied, still smiling. “It’s good to know what might be coming.”

Justin stopped me near the elevators again, asking if I was okay.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll face whatever I have to, as I’ve always done.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he said, a pained look on his face as though he were insulted and feeling guilty at the same time.

Taking his hand in mine, patting it, I said, “Don’t worry about me. But, ask her out.”

“What?” he asked, jumping back slightly and staring at me wide-eyed. “Who?”

“You know who,” I told him, smirking. “She might say no, but she’ll want to say yes. Trust me.”

Winking, I left him, muttering under his breath to himself, trying to figure out what had just happened and some way to tell me I didn’t know what I was talking about. However, I knew what he didn’t want to admit. They were made for each other. All he had to do was tell Angeline.

Eternal: Chapter Ten, Part 1

Chapter Ten: Counting Down

Though I knew I wouldn’t use a pre-prepared speech, I still sat with Caroline while she wrote it. If nothing else, I could use it to go over my main points and wing it, as that seemed to work for me. Besides, if I wasn’t there, she might have switched it into her style of speech, the kind to attract people through anger, not through informed choice. Yes, that meant fewer followers, but that was how I wanted it. Level-headed people were easier to lead and talk to than hotheads.

When I toured the second time, Drei came with me. He was doing better and took his directive seriously. I slept every night—long enough for it to be considered sleeping—and ate regularly…well, drank. He was never overbearing about any of it—except maybe the sleeping thing. It still felt like we were in a romantic relationship, which was important.

Afterwards, both Caroline and I had several requests to speak at universities and various other forums. We accepted what we could handle—Drei and Ian both having a strong word in the decision as they knew our boundaries better than it seemed we did, at times.

Everything was looking great, even if there was still a huge chunk to do yet. There were also still the vocal naysayers and the bounty hunters shadowing our travel. We always had to be cautious when returning home, trying to shake any who may be following us before nearing our neighborhood. It seemed we were successful at this, but I suspected their directive had changed from capture to something potentially more sinister. My schedule kept me busy enough, though, my brain hardly had time to fall down that dark rabbit hole of guessing.

Over the next five and a half months, we didn’t have anything specifically planned except preparing for the march. It was Nick and Ian’s idea that I take a few more speaking engagements over those months so it didn’t feel like we had abandoned them, which Valetta and Mitchell supported.

Valetta and Mitchell were preparing to leave on rounds again, ensuring everyone still felt content and comfortable now that the main message was well circulated. We even had air time from our second tour and extra engagements. The site was publicized for free on news stations; although not all of what they said was positive, enough people had seen the commercials or heard us speak that a little bit of bad publicity didn’t hurt us much.

It was interesting to read what people wrote on the forums about the different views of the networks. While some found it outright hilarious, others were really upset by it, venting their anger in long-winded rants. They made a lot of good points—some of which could be found elsewhere on the site—and I found those touching. People cared enough to be angry, and that was a compliment. A huge one.

During the days, Nick was selecting his security detail, interviewing a wide variety of individuals to ultimately choose thirty people. Drei was helping him as he had been on Caroline’s muscle squad and had a way of reading people, as well as intimidating those who weren’t up to the challenge. Although Nick sometimes complained, I could tell he was somewhat grateful. Fifteen—out of 18—that he had already interviewed had cracked under Drei’s gaze, and Nick had liked them as well. Considering Nick had cracked under that same gaze only once that I could remember—mostly because Drei had bared his fangs—none of those 15 were asked back, for the time being.

While they were busy with that, Caroline, Xenia, and Kora were collaborating on the speech—Kora and Xenia mostly through video conferencing. Most days that’s where I was. Since I would have to follow the speech this time, it was important I actually knew what I was supposed to say. The first part was, again, about elementals, this time with demonstrations as I spoke. From there, we segued into what the government was doing in their hidden facilities, then moving into our rights as people and a need for liberation. Caroline and I spent several nights, just the two of us, trying to figure out how to end it. Part of me wanted to just tell her I wanted to hand everything over to her at the end since that’s when it stopped being so idea based and real action would need to be taken. That was her forte.

She probably would have turned me down if I had brought it up; not because she wouldn’t want to accept but because she might still think she wasn’t strong enough after what had happened to me. Caroline was strong, though. But even if I had told her that, she wouldn’t have believed me.

Eventually we decided to leave the end up to improvisation. I could read the crowd and know what needed to come next, what would make for the perfect ending. It felt right that we didn’t write the end, as though something was going to happen and change how it would wind up anyway. But I didn’t want to be a pessimist. Everything was going to be as close to perfect as was possible. It had to be.

After we finished the beginning of the speech, we sent it to Ian, who was working with Mikael and Jake—again mostly through video conferencing—to work on the choreography. Instead of demonstrations at the end or interrupting the speech, we had decided to incorporate it into the beginning in ways similar to the demonstrations in the commercial. Ian, being the artistic soul among us, was heading the choreography. Occasionally, I stopped in to see what they had worked out and it amazed me how ideal it was. Though it wasn’t what we would usually do if we used our powers for fun—because it was artistic—it was graceful and poetic. Ian was going to work with Caroline on her part of it as she was the only fire elemental I had who was willing to admit it.

Jake had started calling and messaging me semi-frequently. He was doing better, slowly returning to the way he had been; he would never be that way fully again, but he was working on being more level-headed and warmer towards people. Any time he was having trouble venting or letting go of something that had happened, he contacted me. And as soon as I could, we would talk it out. Sometimes he called just to talk about how great his day was, or to tell me about a girl he had met who supported our campaign. On those days, I’d ask if he had thought about facing his dad again. The answer was always no, though, over the months, he had been increasingly more hesitant to reply. Eventually, I knew he’d say yes, and if he asked me to come with him, I would. But until then, I’d ask another question, usually about the girl, and he’d perk right up again.

Kora was even beginning to relax. Her boyfriend had asked her about the movement and about her involvement—she said he had told her he was interested—and she was honest with him about everything. After she told him, she asked if he thought she was a freak and wanted to break up. But instead, he told her he loved her even more and asked what he could do to help. When she told us during a video conference she was glowing. All of her worrying had been for nothing.

Xenia still had her hair dyed, recently changing it to a pale blue, but she was happier, as well. Over one of her breaks, she stopped by and thanked me. It turned out a couple of her friends were also elementals—granted they were earth—and all of them felt better about being able to be open and honest. She said some people were scared and still thought they were unnatural and dangerous, but most people thought it was cool.

And Mikael was still Mikael. He was still happy and optimistic, supportive. Some days I wondered if he missed his family at all, just because there was an occasional sadness about him. When I would ask, he just shook it off and insisted he was fine. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I knew, no matter what it was, he’d be okay. If he wasn’t, I hoped he knew he could talk to me about whatever it was.

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 9

“You no longer need me,” Drei said, gazing down at me. “I do love you, Abriel. Please do not think I will ever stop loving you. But right now, I need something for myself, something to do, some reason to continue on.”

“But I need you,” I persisted, a twinge of whining slipping into my voice.

He opened his mouth to protest again but I put a finger to his lips to stop him.

“It’s why I didn’t give you another job,” I said, hoping it wasn’t too late. If it was, I deserved everything that came of it. “Because I need you with me. This whole vampire thing is still new to me, Drei. I still need you to take care of me, to make sure I stay healthy because you and Caroline both know I have a nasty tendency to overestimate myself—Ian, too,” I admitted, though it was hard to do. Tears started filling my eyes, though I pushed them back. I didn’t want him to stay because he didn’t want to see me cry; I wanted him to stay because he felt needed here; because he could find what would make him happy here. “I can’t afford to overestimate myself now,” I whispered, swallowing, hoping my throat would clear and my voice would stop wavering. “Everything…everyone is relying on me. I would die if I let them down.”

“Do you—”

“Every word,” I promised, holding his gaze steadily, even if my voice was no longer so. I took his hands and put them on my hips. “I need you to take care of me, Drei—because I’m really, really bad at that.”

A slight smile crossed his lips as he nodded. “I agree with that.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, his hands slipped from my hips so his arms were around my waist. “Will you stay?” I asked, having to look away before I really did start crying. This could go one of two ways: he could let go, apologizing and walk out the door anyway, or he could hold me tighter and say he’d stay. Though I knew there were two options, the longer I waited, the more it seemed like there only was one. My mind even started playing through how I would be if he left, suggesting I would start crying and no one could make me feel better and everything would fall apart.

“I love you…so much,” he said into my hair.

This was it, I found myself thinking. I dreaded hearing the apology because that would mean I was right, and I couldn’t argue with him because I would have received my just desserts. After three fourths of a year, more than that even, I still hadn’t talked to him as I had said I would.

“I shall stay with you.”

Despite his answer, I buried my face in his chest and cried as he held me closer with one arm, the other smoothing my hair.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, pulling slightly away, smiling kindly down at me.

Wiping tears out of my eyes with one hand, I answered, “Because I was so scared you would leave, and it would be my fault.”

Kissing my forehead, he assured me, “While it would have been partially your fault if I had left, it would have been the hardest thing I had done in years.”

“Then why were you going to leave?”

“Because hard things are still things that should be done.” Wiping a tear from my cheek, he tapped my nose. “But you have convinced me this is one thing I should not do.”

Smiling at him, my eyes probably watery, I asked if he needed help unpacking. He declined, saying I should sleep instead.

“Can’t I work a little longer?” I pleaded with him, having hoped to catch up with at least the old topics. Yes, the forums were a great source of feedback, but I also really enjoyed reading the varying responses.

“If I am to stay, you should listen to me,” he said, leaning closer to me.

“But there’s no fun in that,” I teased, bending backwards, smiling as he bent over to follow me.

“I never said there would be;” he caught my lips with his, both of us bent practically in half and slowly righting ourselves as we kissed. Drei pulled me closer to him, suddenly stopping. “You really should sleep now.”

“You’re evil,” I breathed, my lips barely brushing against his as I spoke. “If there’s more of this, I could listen better.”

“That is not you speaking,” he said, pulling a little further away. “That is your vampire’s lust.”

“My vampire is me, though.”

“When you can control her,” he countered, giving me a small kiss before sweeping me into his arms and heading toward the bedroom. He stopped any protestations I might have given by saying, in a very final tone, “You are to sleep now.”

When he set me down on the bed, exhaustion washed over me. I hadn’t realized I was tired, but then I was a specialist at denying it.

“Always pushing your limits,” Drei mused, crouching by the bed and smoothing the hair out of my face.

 I smiled sheepishly at him, my eyes closing. “That’s why I need you; so you can push back.”

“If you listen to me,” he mocked, pressing his forehead to mine.

“You’re not going to run off while I sleep, are you?” I asked before yawning and closing my eyes.

“No,” he promised, holding my hand now. “I have a purpose now.”

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 8

After three months touring and speaking with Nick, I was relieved to be home. Though most days went much like the first, some were more difficult in different ways. I had been felt up at least four times by guys who were chosen to check for wires, but I couldn’t say anything to them until after I was done—and I always did so with a smile. Nick wasn’t always so nice, though. Usually after they left the immediate area, he stopped them and slapped them around a little. I couldn’t agree with his methods, but I wasn’t going to stop him. If I hadn’t been personally against performing actual acts of violence, I would have done it myself.

Because I was revealing who I was and what I could do, it made it harder to be safe. People knew, the government knew, and bounty hunters were out in force. They couldn’t do anything when we were in the middle of the oration, and they typically refrained from trying afterwards given Nick was at my side—the bounty hunters didn't seem to recognize him as formerly one of their own. The point was to make me ‘disappear’ and that didn’t work if there were witnesses. So we manipulated our advantage the best we could and otherwise took every precaution of which we could think.

But after everything, it was great to be able to relax at home and see Drei again. Nick had even chilled out about the Drei-biting-me-because-I-almost-died thing by the time we returned. I think it was mostly because we were both exhausted.

Now we could sleep a little better until it was time for the next tour—this one also three months, though we had three months to prepare. The three months before we began planning the march would be spent on guest visits to anywhere that requested us via e-mail or a form on the site. I was glad to see, when I went online, Mikael and Xenia had successfully added a forum and much of the discussion concerned our speaking engagements. Some of the users also posted videos they had taken for those unable to attend an event. Caroline had been successful with her tour, as well, though it sounded as though people better connected with me—it was the little things.

A few weeks after Nick and I had returned, I was finally done visiting with everyone and catching up with what had happened in my absence. Returning to the apartment after my update with the Council, I sat on the couch, opening the laptop Caroline had bought for me so I could keep up with the website. I navigated to the site and started reading through the comments on the speaking engagements, looking to make improvements, if needed.

The door to the bedroom opened, but I didn’t pay any mind. Nick was out clubbing with Lily—a vampire whom he had been with for a while now; she was visiting for a week. Lily was also from the camp; she had left before Drei and I, but it hadn’t been until a few years ago that I'd learned where she had gone.

I figured Drei was waking up from a nap or something; it was quite late—I'd had to wait hours to see the Council because they were backed up with vampires who had used the holidays as a reason to “splurge,” as Tudor had so delicately explained. It wasn’t until I heard a heavy thump on the floor by the door I looked up. Drei stood there, slowly slipping into his shoes, kneeling to tie them. At his feet was a single bag. A bag I had only seen once before: when we had moved in.

“Where are you going?” I asked worriedly, setting the laptop on the couch next to me.

Without looking my way, he straightened again, taking a moment before he reached for his jacket. “I do not know,” he replied, shrugging into his coat, staring at the wall when he finished.

I was standing before him in a moment, feeling small compared to him, and shrinking. “Then why are you leaving?” One of my hands found his cheek, brushing his shaggy hair to the side.

“Because I am useless here,” he said softly, still refusing to even glance at me. “I need something to do. I cannot sit idly by while everyone has something to contribute.”

“But you’re wrong,” I insisted, needing him to look at me. “You aren’t useless.”

“Not even you need me,” Drei whispered, gently grabbing my hand and lowering it from his face. “Your campaign will be a wonderful success.”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was the one who hadn’t wanted to come with me. If Nick hadn’t been there, I would have failed miserably. I wouldn’t have been able to stumble through the script Caroline and I had written. But if I had had my way, it would have been him there, not Nick.

“I still need—”

“I know when I am needed.” He almost never interrupted me; the only times I remembered him doing so were when things were awful, and I mean so horrendous he didn’t see another option.

Mentally I was kicking myself. I should have seen this coming. He had been distant for a while, strict for the short period after my breakdown but otherwise quiet and somber. I felt colder than I had in some time, responsible for what was happening. If I had talked to him about why he wasn’t an ambassador or in charge of something else, this wouldn’t be happening. But it was because I had forgotten, distracted by other people and things and myself. I couldn’t help thinking that if he left, despite my pleas, it would be my own fault and I would deserve it.

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 7

I waited, glancing from one person to the next, especially watching the doubters, hoping someone would speak up. My eyes wouldn’t beg anyone for a question, but I knew they were out there; just watching their faces, there were questions.

“How do we know you’re not making this all up?” Nick asked, filling the silence that no one else would breach, ending the anxiety and annoyance it had begun to instill in me. A good deal of attention was shifted to him for a moment before returning to me, many mumbles consenting with this question.

“Because I’m an air elemental. I grew up without my mother, another air elemental who was found and taken away by the governmental detail we refer to as bounty hunters. Because this is not something I would joke about.”

“Prove it,” a woman shouted from one of the picnic blankets.

I had spent the night thinking about what I would do and had determined a few ways, starting with the less showy. The woman who asked was named Dolores, which I found out from her friend who was somewhat embarrassed she had spoken up. Dolores—a tall brunette, curvy, and middle-aged—was thinking about her kids and the teenaged babysitter she left them with, whom she didn’t trust not to invite over her boyfriend or friends.

“Dolores, would you tell your friend with you…” I was saying, a trick to make her think her friend’s name for me, “…Joanie, that she shouldn’t be embarrassed you spoke up. This is an open forum because I don’t want any of you to believe me just because I say you should.” The women exchanged a confused look and there was some murmuring from the people gathered. “Because I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” I added, one hand on my chest, one hand reaching out toward her as if I could pat her hand, which I did do with the air, “I won’t ask for your address, but I think you should trust your babysitter. She probably has the kids playing a game or something.”

Dolores started talking excitedly to Joanie, first demanding if she had spoken to me at all and how I could know all of that. I withheld a smile, proud of myself, though I knew most people wouldn’t believe either of them.

“So how long have you known Dolores and Joanie?” a guy, standing relatively close to Nick, demanded, crossing his arms.

“I’ve never met them before,” I replied, “but you won’t believe me. And that’s okay.”

“Do something else?” a little black haired boy requested, his mother quickly shushing him though he waved her off.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked him, crouching down as he was in one of the lawn chairs near the gazebo steps.

He leaned forward excitedly, his rich brown eyes wide and glistening. “Can you fly?” he half-whispered.

Smiling, I stood again. “I can do something like flying,” I admitted, facing the skeptic near Nick.

“You probably know him, too,” he quipped, sneering. Some people just had no manners.

“She doesn’t,” the boy’s mother insisted, holding his head to her chest before he pushed her away, waiting eagerly to see his request fulfilled.

“Then you wanted someone to say that. There’s probably wires,” he reasoned, and while a few people agreed with him, more of them were tired of his doubting, even if they still weren’t convinced.

“So choose someone, anyone here, to check for wires,” I invited, opening my arms to encompass the entire company. “I won’t object.”

Thus, everyone started talking, automatically eliminating anyone who said they believed me and ruling out the skeptic for being too skeptical. Dolores, Joanie, and the boy and his family were also ruled out. Eventually they decided on a farmer type who was torn between believing God would allow a phenomena like this to happen and that elementals were spawns of the devil and therefore unnatural. He was, however, hesitant to do much more than swipe his hand above my head and arms should the latter be the truth. When other men in the crowd cheered him to check elsewhere on my person, he was very respectful and his cheeks burned red.

When he cleared me as wire-free, I asked him to step to the side, starting up my cycle of moving strings where he had been standing. Stepping onto my strings, it took me a moment to find my balance, not having done this for a while. Once I found it, though, I was good to go, slowly weaving through the crowd where there was enough space, eventually flying to the top of the gazebo and sitting down on a now solid block of air. The little boy was out of his seat staring open-mouthed up at me. Everyone was staring open-mouthed, even Nick who—I had forgotten—had never seen me do anything but little tricks.

As I sat above them, I properly read the crowd. For the most part, they were convinced. Quite a few had questions, but I could take those individually. Floating slowly back down, I felt it was time to improvise an ending since I had pretty much improvised everything else.

“Elementals exist,” I started, smiling at how many people were nodding in consent, in belief. Even the gentleman who had checked for wires. “Through us, small miracles still happen, our existence becomes less of a burden on the environment, and people are helped. But it won’t last if we let the government have its way. We exist; we’re people, human; we deserve our rights, too. But it’s the efforts of everyone together that’s going to make a change possible,” I finished, looking around again. I couldn’t seem to remember why I had ever been nervous to begin with. “I’ll be here for a while yet, so feel free to ask questions.”

Nick was the last one I looked at before thanking the crowd and going to sit on one of the benches in the gazebo. He had been smiling, silently clapping for me. Seeing that made me feel so warm inside.

And the feeling didn’t stop there, either. Most of the people who came up to talk to me introduced themselves and commented on how I had been, or how amazing it was to see me fly, or tell me how they wanted to help in any way they could. Every time they asked my name, I answered with “Leirba,” staying true to Drei’s instructions.

Though the original speech was meant to awe and inspire and be longer and better organized, among other things, I felt I had found my niche. Caroline worked well with a prepared script; she liked to talk at people and have them listen. Me? Well, it seemed improvising with facts readily available afterwards was more my speed. I liked to talk to people, and connect in that fashion. If the feedback was any indication, that was how I was going to succeed.

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 6

Drei had chosen the exact location for this speech to be the gazebo where, on sunnier days, local musicians would showcase their talent and school bands would hold fundraisers. It was a huge, well-kept, white gazebo with intricate lattice work and was in a well shaded area. Nick and I arrived an hour before it was scheduled to begin. I had left behind my notebook and notes, not wanting to carry them with me. Though I had it memorized, I was beginning to feel nervous again, wishing I had brought it along after all.

“You’ll be great,” Nick insisted, squeezing my shoulder. “Remember, I’ll be in the audience, by that tree,” he added, pointing to a tall oak tree straight out from one of the entrances to the gazebo.

Touching his hand, soaking in the comfort it was trying to offer, I nodded, knowing he had to leave and show up after other people had, if anyone did. He would stay nearby should I need him, but we wanted to limit the number of faces directly related to our campaign for the time being.

He walked away, looking back once as if to assure me he would be under that tree before I started speaking. That I wasn’t some puppy he was going to leave by the side of the road and never return to. Not that I had been thinking that. Really. All right, maybe a little.

I sat, concentrating on breathing, relaxing until Nick’s cell phone alarm went off in my pocket—doubling as a reminder he had to return. As I breathed, I tried not to think if I was dressed appropriately in my blue jeans, long, loose-fitting blouse, and sweater jacket; I attempted to stop my brain from going through opinions whoever showed might already have of me, how I would work around that, and if I could at all. I wasn’t succeeding very well.

Slowly, my silence was infiltrated as the park started filling with people, some of them stopping to stare at me while others just stood around chatting. Focusing on the first words of my speech, I tried droning them out, forcing myself not to be concerned with their words

There was a soft buzzing in my back pocket. Pulling out the cell phone, I turned it off, exhaling slowly until there was no air in my lungs.

Show time.

Standing up, I faced the oak tree Nick had pointed out, surprised to see a good sized group of people before me. Some sat on picnic blankets, relaxing with friends; some had brought lawn chairs; others were standing under or leaning against trees. A shush fell across them like dominoes as the people closest to the gazebo noticed me there.

Part of me, the part scared senseless right then, wanted to walk down the steps and pretend I had just been waiting in the gazebo for the speaker. To let it end here with all of them disappointed, never to be bothered again.

Glancing around, my eyes caught Nick’s, and I knew I couldn’t let them down. Most of them had probably been avid listeners and followers of Caroline’s revolution when it had ended—indirectly my fault. They had been waiting for a change, craving one. I couldn’t reward their patience and devotion with more disappointment.

Swallowing, I stepped forward, forcing myself to calm down, at least on the surface. I wasn’t Caroline; I could draw attention, but I didn’t know how to command it as she did. The beginning she had written was what worked for her, but standing before all of these expectant people now, I knew it wasn’t what was going to work for me.

“Welcome,” I greeted, opening my arms to all of them. “That you’re here today means you’ve seen the commercials; you’ve visited the site; now you want to know more,” I started, risking looking around at everyone. My nerves were still going crazy but at least it wasn’t showing in my voice. Nick gave me a thumbs up. “For anyone who hasn’t read the literature on the site, allow me to summarize. There are people who look normal, have regular jobs, lead average lives, but are different. They can control one of the four elements: water, fire, earth, air.” I had thought I might do something to emphasize this point, but decided to leave the theatrics until someone asked. Right now, the message was the important part.

“As I said, they are regular people, just like everyone here, but a little different. Not different in a bad way,” I added, still on guard but starting to relax. It was hard reading just their expressions and I didn’t want to distract myself with reading their impressions just yet. The general feeling was patience, calm, and interest; doubt was only in a few spots. I’d see how that changed in a moment when I went into the heavy stuff. “Instead of treating people like this, like me, with the same respect as everyone one else, though, our government chooses to hunt us. To gather a special detail of people to search for us, find us, and take us into captivity for research to use our gifts, against our will, as a weapon. Gifts that are meant to be given to everyone to improve life, to assist us in coexisting with our environment; gifts that have been at work silently bringing change into our lives for centuries.

“But these gifts won’t be around forever,” I stated, feeling stronger, feeling empowered by finally saying what no one else would. There was no turning back after this moment; no one could erase spoken words, even if they managed to erase those written. “The elements endow us to benefit as many as possible, but that’s their only purpose. They won’t stand for being used as a weapon, or being misused in any way.” Saying this, I thought of Mom and knew she would be proud if she could be here—this was one of her lessons to me, after all. But I also sensed the increasing doubt among my listeners. This was the abstract part now, the part I’d have to back soon with proof. “Some of you may remember another revolution, aimed at the government. Everything that was the case then, is still the case now,” I said, beginning to talk more with my hands. “But this is a case of civil rights, one of many faults in a structure that is failing. Another omission in an ever growing list.”

No one had left yet, and no one had completely lost interest; even the doubters were still listening, still staring at me. Even as they grew more skeptical, something about whatever I was saying was rooting them here. I wasn’t sure what exactly, but I figured it didn’t matter so long as they kept listening.

“This blatant disregard of our rights as citizens—as human beings—breaks apart families, ruins relationships, forces all of us into hiding…until now. We refuse to stay silent any longer. We want to live peacefully and help where we can. To do that, we need all the help you can give.”

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 5

Smoothing the hair out of his face, I realized how much he had grown up from two years ago. His eyes and facial structure hadn’t changed at all, but the set of his jaw seemed more serious than playful. His skin was dark as if he had spent a lot of time outside, or maybe it was dark in comparison to my paling skin. He was already starting to show crow’s feet though, and laugh lines from smiling so much. It was almost like he was aging faster than most people did, or perhaps that was just in comparison to me.

“You’re the only one who hasn’t told me I’ve changed,” I said softly, sitting back. My fingers were still running through his damp hair—it was really soft and I found the repetition of movement soothing.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to hear it,” he admitted, closing his eyes. “That feels really good, by the way.”

Smirking, I asked, “So do I look different?”

One of his jade gems flashed up at me before he answered, “You’re paler, you seem more serious, and you’re cool to the touch, even when other people are hot and sweaty.”

Nodding, I thanked him. No one else had said how I was different, just that I was, and hearing how actually made me feel less worried. For a while I was wondering if I had a huge sign painted on my forehead saying “different” and I was the only one who didn’t know.

“You and Drei are closer,” he said, starting to fully relax, one of his hands dangling off the side of the couch now. At least one of us could relax. “Does that have anything to do with you changing?” When I didn’t say anything, he asked, “Aren’t you two worried about being found out?”

After a moment I knew I had to say something, even if it meant he would know both answers. “Things are different now.”

His eyes flew open and I felt his muscles tense. “What do you mean?”

“Just that,” I said, holding his eyes steadily. “Things are different now.”

He sat and spun to face me. “A—”

“Leirba,” I interrupted before he could screw everything up. To most of the public, Abriel had died more than a year ago, mysteriously disappearing from the hospital where they attempted a surgery to save her life after she had been admitted for a gunshot wound. Not to mention Abriel was supposed to have died before that, at the docks, after having successfully escaped one of the secret government “research labs” that conveniently doubled as an elemental prison. Leirba was safe from both death and the government—for a short while anyway.

Nick bit his bottom lip, holding back his frustration; he wanted to be straightforward about this and using an alternate name felt like a game. He was too easy to read when he was upset.

Before he could say anything else, I sighed and suggested, “We should go back to the room if we’re going to have this discussion.”

“Why? I thought things were different now?” he snipped childishly, his eyes watery. He even looked younger as his lips pouted—unintentionally.

“Because if this is going where I think it is,” I replied, grabbing my notebook and pulling him behind me, “then it still has to stay a secret.”

“Oh, so it’s a secret that he—”

Whipping my head around, I glared at him. He might have been taller than me, but I was more powerful and he knew that; I’d pushed him across a room once when he wasn’t listening to me. Nick shushed immediately and didn’t say a word until the door was closed behind us.

“He bit you.” It wasn’t a question.

“There were circumstances,” I said, staring out the window at the wintry sky. Halloween wasn’t too far off but it may as well have been the middle of February.

“What circumstances excuse him turning you into a…”

“I was dying,” I murmured under him. It took him a moment to realize I had said anything, thus his voice trailing off. He moved to stand before me at the window, one hand on my shoulder.

“What?” He forced himself to be calmer now so he would hear me.

“I was dying,” I repeated, my eyes following a few late birds through the sky. “The doctors had done what they could…so Drei did what he could.”

“You asked for this?” Nick asked, his voice soft with a note of betrayal.

“No;” his eyes were still watery but more from hurt than anything else. And it wasn’t hurt for himself. “I thought I was dead.”

“That’s why you’re going—”

“By Leirba, and it’s very important we stick to it.” I held his gaze a second longer before concentrating outside again. “It makes things complicated, but time is time.”

“You have more than time,” he said as though I hadn’t thought about it. “You have eternity.”

“So now you know.” When he didn’t move, as if waiting for me to say something else, I told him, “You handled it better than Mitchell and Valetta.”

Another silence enveloped us and I hated it. I wasn’t sure why, but more and more lately, I felt the compulsion to fill any silence in conversations. When I was alone, it was perfectly fine; but when I was with someone else, the silence only aggravated me and I had no explanation for it.

“Ready for tomorrow?” I wondered if he really knew that’s what I had switched to thinking about or if he was just trying to change the subject.

“No,” I confessed, still not looking at him. Some part of me felt like looking at him would reveal something he wasn’t saying. And if that was true, I was certain it wouldn’t be something helpful to my nerves or situation.

Pulling me into his strong arms as he had done before when I was scared or crying or both, I started feeling better. It wasn’t as effective as Drei saying a few words and touching my cheek or hand, but it still worked.

“If you start to get nervous, just remember I’ll be standing out in the audience,” he whispered into my hair. “I’m here for you.”

Wrapping my arms around him, too, I let him comfort me, allowing his confidence to sink into and fill me. Tomorrow would be great. I just had to breathe, stay calm and optimistic, and remember most of the people who would be there were already partially on my side. And Nick would be there if I started to panic.

How did I end up so lucky?

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 4

By October, the commercials were done and available on the site, everyone was back in school, and Caroline and I had worked out the first speech. We would be delivering the same speech in separate locations—her idea since we didn’t have time for me to do all of it alone. Half a year was already gone and in a year’s time, we needed to begin planning the march. I think the main inspiration of a march came from her never leading her own. Personally, I could have lived without one, but it made for a great way to bring everyone together and finish out two years. If enough people showed up, there was my proof I had made significant impact.

Drei had opted not to travel with me, though his reasoning was ambiguous. The day before I left, Valetta and Mitchell had returned, exhausted but smiling. Everyone had trusted them and had agreed if they felt threatened by what we were doing, they would contact the Council who would contact me directly and handle the problem—meaning there wouldn’t be a problem.

I wasn’t sure what Drei was doing while I was traveling across the northeast—Caroline had insisted on taking the south, probably because she wasn’t fond of the cold. He wasn’t fighting with Nick, though. Nick, when Drei declined to accompany me, asked if he might. There wasn’t much for him to do as we wouldn’t need a security detail until the march. Having one at the casual speeches would give us the wrong image, even if everyone except Caroline and Ian disagreed. Even Justin and Angeline said I should take few muscles with me, warning against rioting and government intervention. But that would only provide a reason for there to be intervention and that was something I wanted to avoid.

Drei, of course, had no opinion on this. If he had, he would have sounded a bit hypocritical by not wanting to come. But I wasn’t going to think about that because I couldn’t risk being bitter.

Having Nick along wasn’t so bad, though. It gave me a chance to show him I hadn’t changed much. The way he had acted since that first night staying with us made me uncomfortable, though he probably felt doubly so. He was the only one not to mention I looked different—not that I would know I looked different for obvious reasons. Maybe some one-on-one time was all we really needed.

“Are you sure you don’t want a separate room?” Nick asked as we rode the elevator to the fourth floor and our hotel room. “Drei won’t mind or anything?”

“Nick, I trust you,” I assured him for the third time since he had seen the reservations. “Unless there’s some reason why I shouldn’t, in which case you should tell me now.”

“No reason you shouldn’t trust me; I was just thinking—”

“If Drei cared, he’d be here,” I said somewhat bitterly. I hadn’t meant for it come out that way. There wasn’t anything I could think of to say to him to make it better.

Opening the door to the room and dropping our bags on the beds—mine farthest from the window—he announced he was taking a shower. I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to figure out what I was going to do. I didn’t want to be outside, but I didn’t want to stay in the room, either. Part of me was anxious about the speech in the morning at the park. Drei had helped me choose the locations for all of the orations—most of which were in parks, though a few he arranged to be at college campuses.

Grabbing my notebook, I headed to find a quiet corner in the lounge downstairs.

I stared at the first words of my speech. “Elementals are a miracle, a blessing, the chance to help the environment and ourselves; our government wants to take that away, to misuse our gifts. And they don’t expect any consequences for their actions.” It seemed more than an hour I stared at them, unsure how I had ever agreed to do this alone. How it was Drei wouldn’t be there, at least for the first one. I could already guess whoever showed up tomorrow would want some excellent show of power—which I wasn’t prepared for—and probably demand how I knew what I did about the abusive process of breaking elementals. Could I prove that homes were broken by this? Could I prove anything?

Cradling my head in my hands, I forced myself to breath, hoping the old pastime of slow breathing would calm my nerves and make the threat of hyperventilating dissipate. If he was here, he’d probably say it was all right and I’d instantly feel better. Especially if he added something about how wonderful I was going to be. And worse come to worse, he would be in the audience for me to look at if things started to go awry.

He wasn’t going to be there, though. And he wasn’t going to pop up out of nowhere to tell me I had a brilliant speech, I had something important to say, and even if some left tomorrow feeling cheated, a lot more would leave even more devoted to our cause.

“You don’t look too good,” Nick observed, leaning over the back of the couch. For a split second I almost let my mind lie to me and say it was Drei. But I knew better, and lying to myself now wouldn’t help anything.

“You’re dripping on me,” I complained, swiping at the wet spots on the back of my blouse.

“Oh, really?” he wondered aloud. If I had turned around to look at him, I probably would have seen a mischievous curve to his lips and known what was coming next. As I opened my mouth to say something else, Nick bent further over and started shaking his head like a wet dog, splattering me in water.

“Oh, stop that,” I said, angrily, not in the mood for silliness. Maybe one-on-one time was exactly the opposite of what we needed.

Nick stopped shaking his head, a smile on his lips. His hair was curly now that it was partially dried. One particularly long curl fell into his jade eyes, but he didn’t move it. “I’m not dripping on you anymore,” he pointed out.

Smiling was inevitable; it was Nick, after all, and I had always found his happiness infectious. Closing my notebook, I sat it next to me on the open cushion. Nick jumped over the back of the couch and laid down, his legs dangling over the armrest and his head now resting in my lap. So much for being dry.

“If you didn’t like being wet, you shouldn’t have said anything,” he commented, staring up at me with his bright gems.

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 3

“How so?” I leaned forward, resting my chin on the heels of my palms. Finally, I would have an answer and, this time, it wasn’t to my own problem. Though I was certain this wasn’t a good thing he was about to tell me, I was grateful for the distraction.

“I remember when Caroline first told me she was a fire elemental, though, then, we didn’t know that was the name for it. It wasn’t long after I came into my own powers; I think we were 13 or 14. But I told her because it was really crazy what had happened—I mean, it wasn’t anything huge or particularly obvious, but suddenly I was hearing conversations and animals and the like when they weren’t even nearby,” he explained, leaning forward on his elbows. “It wasn’t spectacular, but it was like my hearing had improved 10 fold. And she was the first person I told.

“When I did, she told me I shouldn’t tell people about it because it made me look crazy and no one wanted to associate with a loony. So I asked her what right she had to say that, thinking she was just jealous. Then she explained it was what her parents told her.” Shaking his head, he tapped his fingers on the counter top. When he met my gaze again, he continued, “I didn’t believe her at first and then she lit a fire in her palm. Well, lit isn’t the right word, but you understand what I mean.”

I nodded, remembering when she had done the same to me upon our first encounter. That memory brought a smirk to my lips; her little fire didn’t last long after I pulled the air around it away. It was our exchange of secrets and the whole reason she took me on in the first place. “What did you do?”

“I told her we couldn’t both be crazy and then had to go home. When I told my grandmother she explained what was happening and told me it didn’t make me crazy; it just meant I had to be more careful about where and when I did things. She told me I was free to experiment in my room if I kept the curtains and the door closed, but nowhere else. I also asked if she could teach me things, but that’s when I found out it was her mother, not her, who had been an air elemental before me. She told me not even my father had it; she also said it made me special.”

“Well, it does. What about Caroline?”

“When I told her what my grandmother had said, she didn’t believe me. Instead, she put more stock into what her parents had said, fighting me for well over an hour before storming off to go home. The next day she didn’t show up at school, so I went to the soda shop on the square, her favorite one. Sure enough, she was there with a root beer float, crying in a corner. She tried acting like she hadn’t been crying, but she gave up when I sat down and told her I wasn’t leaving. That’s when she told me she had been fighting with her parents the night before about what I’d told her. She admitted she had liked the sound of not being crazy for being different, but her parents insisted whoever had put the thoughts in her head was out of line and she should stay away from him.

“Caroline, being Caroline, told them she wouldn’t listen to them anymore and when they tried to control her—which she didn’t say how—her skin superheated and blistered her father’s hands. She didn’t want to come to me because, she said, that would mean saying I was right;” he chuckled to himself and a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Instead, she waited in her tree house until the soda shop had opened and went there.”

“What happened after that? Did they ever accept that they couldn’t change her?”

His head shook sadly, his lips pressed into a pale line. “We went to see my grandmother, who assured Caroline she wasn’t a freak or crazy or anything else. She stayed with us for the day and then went home that night. After that, she became even more hardheaded, but it was because she was fighting her parents at home almost every night. No one at school knew anything outside she had become a royal pain—well, more of one. But whenever she was too flustered to go home and speak reasonably for even a short period of time, she stayed over with me.

“After about a year, her parents asked me why I was still hanging around her when she was so ‘uncontrollable’ and ‘obviously unwell.’ She never did tell them I’m the one who told her she wasn’t a freak or crazy. When I told them because we were friends and she seemed fine to me, they insisted I either wasn’t well or too good to be true. That’s when, to add insult to injury, they began insisting we date and eventually wed.”

“I bet Caroline didn’t like that.”

“You’ve got that right,” Ian said, his eyes wide as he recalled the blowup that had led to. “About a year after that she came out to her parents. They thought it was to spite them—which it was in a way. She had been interested in only girls for a few years at that point, but she had never told them before. When they wouldn’t take no for answer, she told them and that was just—it just wasn’t good. They were not a happy family by any means. Caroline would use her gifts around the house and started bringing girlfriends home to annoy them. She figured it was only fair because they annoyed her. Really, it was just an ugly circle of events.

“Then when we went to college,” he continued, “she started getting better. She was calmer and typically more open to varying opinions. Then, after hearing everyone else talk about how wonderful a relationship they had with their parents, she decided she wanted that for herself and called home.”

“Not good?” I guessed, grimacing. I could only imagine how it had turned out, and it didn’t look pretty in my mind.

Shaking his head, he elaborated, “The first phone call wasn’t bad. But after that, they started insisting if she wanted to talk, she had to come home. So she did; and when she came back at the end of that weekend, she was worse than she had ever been in high school. It was a constant case of PMS and worsened by the fact she either had to go home semi-regularly or they would begin visiting campus, with the threat of them recommending mental guidance and anger management for her.

“The rest is pretty much downhill from there. They set up a schedule of times she’s required to visit, and then, occasionally, they drop in for a visit—those are typically unannounced. She obliges and the tradeoff is she can live on their dime on her terms.”

“But she still has to listen to their opinions on her life,” I added, having heard that bit before.

“And their complaining about her element.”

I nodded, better understanding her earlier behavior and her motivation to make this work within my timeline. The sooner we were in the open, the sooner she could prove her parents wrong. Though, from the sound of it, they weren’t the type to admit fault. That’s probably where Caroline learned it.

Neither of us said anything for a long time. I didn’t have anything I could say to him without facing some sort of consequence and that was the topic that most interested him.

“Did you want to stay for dinner?” I offered, regardless how random it seemed—I needed to break the silence somehow.

Just as I asked, Nick walked through the door, dinner rolls in hand. He handed them to me, saying to Ian, “You should. We’ll have enough food.”

“Nick, was it?” Ian inquired, not because he didn’t remember but because he was stalling.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I said, preheating the oven.

“I don’t see why not,” Ian said after a moment. “Caroline shouldn’t need anything tonight.”

“And she can call if she does,” I finished for him, pulling an extra table setting from the cupboard. Drei had bought new dishes and such to replace the ones I’d broken; these were sturdier than the other ones had been—probably in anticipation of another meltdown.

Dinner was fabulous and Ian left contented after Drei and Nick had both assured him I was doing fine. It helped to have two people vouch for me; after he had asked each of them, he let it go.

The next day I spoke with Mikael and Xenia about the website and adding videos. They said it’d be a cinch and would start the formatting for it now while they could work together over the layout; they seemed excited to start when they left. When Nick came home that night, he brought the sketched story board for the next commercial for my approval.

I went with him the next day to give suggestions—all minor because the story board was great when it came to the big ideas—and that was also when Caroline unloaded what seemed like her entire life’s homework and a few flash drives on me. The information was more than welcome as most of it was already targeted against the government, saving me half the leg work. As for how relevant it was to my revolution, I’d find out soon enough. After these commercials were done, Caroline and I would be traveling and speaking publicly, wherever we could to whoever would listen. People would need to put a face with the idea, and that was the best way, in my opinion, to do it.